


The Prison King

by orphan_account



Category: A Heist With Markiplier
Genre: Don't Judge, First time doing a reader fic, Happy Hills isn't so happy, M/M, Mark is less of a crybaby, Shall be very long, Yancy is sort of a king
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-26 15:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You and Mark get caught and are sent to Happy Hills, a prison known for their happy inmates. But you and Mark soon discover Happy Hills isn't all it's cracked up to be. And there's also a secret in the walls. But there is a bright side.The king smiles at you.
Relationships: Yancy/Reader
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK, first Reader fic. I hope it's ok, and this popped into my brain, enjoy.

“Why did you pick a helicopter, if you didn’t know how to fly it?!” I looked at the cry-baby next to me. Mark sat next to me, twiddling his thumbs nervously. I huffed, tapping my foot restlessly as we waited for our names to be called. I could see how upset Mark was, and quite frankly I was just as upset. I blamed myself just as much as I blame Mark, but right now we have bigger problems. Mark had been put in an all-striped prison outfit, while I sported a black shirt and striped pants.

“One Mark-eye-plier.” The lady behind the counter yelled. Mark jumped and slowly walked over.

“It’s Iplier, actually…” But the lady didn’t seem to care. “And one--you’re-”

“Welcome, welcome, WELCOME!” I was startled by the man who walked in. He was bald and dressed like a detective. He had an aura around him I didn’t enjoy in the slightest. I took a step back and Mark was practically cowering behind me. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, despite the shaking in my hands.

“So nice of y’all to join us at Happy Trails Penitentiary!” The bald dude looked at me, Mark, then some other inmates who had joined us as well.

“Y’all look nervous, there’s no need. In this place, we believe in rehabilitation over punishment.” He put emphasizes into punishment. He was smirking at me and Mark, and that sent chills down my spine.

“I think your gonna like it here…” I gulped as he turned to the guard. “Let’s say we speed things up a bit, shall we?”

“Yes, Mr. Murder-Slaughter.” Well shit. Just when this was starting to seem more friendly. “We have one wallet, one non-brand phone, a stick of gum and string.” I looked at Mark, who shrugged. “One 16th century flintlock pistol, likely used by pirates for boarding actions.” I glanced at Mark, who had a cold sweat. “One map, drawn in what appears to be crayon.” I looked at Mark with my arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. He shrugged again and scoffed softly.

“And one wierd-ass box…” That grabbed everyone's attention. Inmates were swinging around in their chairs to look at it. Me and Mark’s faces lost any trace of color as the warden turned to look at it.

“Well, well, well…” He drawled, “What do we have here?” He turned to the guard, who handed it to him. He held it in his hands and stared straight into the blue jewel.

“I-I...I think I’m gonna hold onto this…” He looked me in the eyes and I froze. “For safekeeping.” Now I could tell just from the aura around him, that Mark was panicking.

“Actually,” Mark tries as he slowly goes in to grab the box, “That’s my box.” A guard put his batten around Mark’s neck and I panicked for a second. “I could use it for-” He choked a little, “A Lot of things!”

“You two enjoy your stay.” The warden growled, glaring slightly at the now gasping Mark.

“But thats my—” BANG! Mark’s forehead comes into contact with my jaw, and pain shoots through my whole face.

“Youch!” I yelp, rubbing my jaw lightly as me and Mark walk down what looks like a cafeteria.

“Okay…” Mark drawls, more to himself. “All right, well...We’re in the thick of it now.” He turns back to me and walks backwards. “But don’t you worry, we’ve been through worse.” Suddenly, he’s so confident that I think he forgot where we were.  
“Oh, yeah! And I think we're gonna get out of this just fine this time too.” He turns and bangs his shoulder into a taller, bulkier inmate with a spider-web tat on his head. Mark lets out a small ‘oof’ as the inmate starts walking away.

“Hi. Hello,” The inmate was gone, and I laughed softly, “Rude…” Mark looked around quickly then back at me.

“Ok Ryan, much like every choice in my life, I see two ways out of here.” I nod and straighten up.

“Alright, hats the plan then? Or should I say plans?” I joke. He smiles and sneers in fake offence.

“Alright, either we cozy up to the guards over there.” He points at the guard and I already know I hate this plan.

“Or we try to rally the prisoners to our cause.” I looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“Those are two very-very stupid ideas, Mark Iplier.” He shrugs and strokes his chin.

“I don’t know which choice is best, though.” We both shrugged in sinct as we take a look around the room. Everyone was either eating or talking, leaving us as the only ones in the room who were silent.

“Dude, I don’t like the look that guard gives.” I finally say, pulling him from the tiny world in his brain. “I say prisoners.” He smiles that smile I know will get us in trouble. But I ignore it as a bell rung and suddenly inmates were shuffling towards the cells. We were both poked at by a guard’s baton.

“Cmon, cmon! It’s lights out!” I hadn’t realized it was so late. Mark didn’t seem to have noticed either. So we both just walked until a guard stopped us. We were both pushed into a cell about the size of a normal bed-room.

“Enjoy your stay, boys.” And we were alone.

We looked at the bunk bed, then at each other. We both had the flames of a challenge in our eyes.

“I CALL TOP BUNK!” We both laughed as we raced to claim it.

Mark ended up sleeping on the top, while I occupied the bottom. The bunk’s were surprisingly comfortable, so we were both asleep pretty soon.

Our first night of prison: Done.


	2. A Royal Preformance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan (Y/N) and Mark meet the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I didn't want to kill off Mark so he's staying here.

I wake up to the squeaking of the top bunk moving. It started out as a squeak you would hear if a mouse was right over you, _ sqqqqueak _. Then, it turned to hard-core pillow fight squeaks.

“Mark.” I groaned, not moving an inch or even opening my eyes.

“Ye-eee-ah?” Mark’s voice was squeaky, as if I had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. I growled softly as a warning.

“Stop...Moving.” A big squeak and suddenly Mark’s hanging upside down and I’m staring right at him. His hat fell to the ground and strands of his hair stuck out. He was smiling as he hopped down, landing on his back. I laughed and sat up, rubbing my eyes tiredly.

“What time is it?” Mark asked, sitting up as I stretched.

“Like I know...We don’t have clocks, remember?” I swung my legs around, sitting on the edge of my bunk. I got up and helped Mark to his feet.

“Don’t you still have your watch?” Mark asked. I looked down at my wrist and saw my steel clock.

“Oh, I thought they took this…” I checked the time. “It’s 7:30 in the morning.”

BANG BANG BANG!

We jumped and turned to the noise. A guard stood there, beating his baton against the cell bars.

“Ey, stop your chattin’ and get to the cafeteria! It’s breakfast time.” And with that, the guard unlocked our cell and walked off. Mark and I looked at eachother.

“Should we?” I asked, genuinely concerned. Mark shrugged, and in an instant he turned into a 6 year old.

“Pl-eeeee-ase? I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!” Mark whined, giving me the sad puppy eyes and pout. I rolled my eyes, but sighed in defeat.

“Cmon,” I said, already walking out with a very excited Mark behind me. As we walked, Mark named off everything he hoped was on the menu.

“And I hope they also have eggs and ham! Oo, or bacon and eggs! OOOHHH, pancakes and sausage!” And he kept babbling on about all the delicious food he hoped for.

You should have seen his face when the lady at the food line plopped one big, goopy pile onto Mark’s tray.

Mark looked at the middle-aged grumpy lady with a face of disgust. I swear he looked like he was gonna die from what was on his plate.

“Uh, excuse me, ma’am, but this is a mistake!” He laughed hopelessly, “This can’t be the actual food…” The lady looked up with her eyes. I’m pretty sure the scowl on her face was permanent. She did that thing people do when their unimpressed. _ Tch, tch, tch _.

“Yancy’s gonna eat you up, pretty boy.” She mumbled, “Do I look like I’m joking, Sweet-heart?” Mark shook his head.

“No but-”

“NEXT!” We flinched at the same time. We went over to a table in the corner and plopped down our goop. We left it there and walked about the buzzing room. It was dimly lit and reminded me to much of my elementary school.

“Ok, so I say good call on the prisoner choice. Now, the easiest way to get these guys on our side is to earn their respect.” He smirked, and I knew we were in trouble. “And trust me when I say, I know a thing or two about respect.” He chuckled and looked around. His eyes landed on the same inmate he had bumped into yesterday. My eyes widened in fear, what was my idiot best friend doing?!

“Mark-”

“HEY YOU!” Mak yelled, cornering the guy and totally not grabbing the whole cafeteria's attention. I could just feel the eyes staring into my back. “I wanna talk about respect. It’s something we’ve been really missing here lately.” He put his thumb on the guy’s chest. “Now I need you-” He put his thumb on his own chest, “-To respect me.”

He wagged his finger in the air. “And help me and my friend, Ryan, break out-” BAM! Spider-web punched Mark and he flew through the wall. I ran over and looked over the hole at the dizzy and dusty Mark.

“Mark?! You alright, bud?” Mark looked at me with a star-struck expresion.

“Am I’ze ok? Well.” He made his lips a tight line. “I don’t know.” I helped him up, slinging his arm around my shoulder for balance. Everything had gone silent and dark, even the inmates were quiet.

“_ Break out? _” The voice seemed to ring out of nowhere, making the silence even more quiet. I heard a few people murmur before a snap broke out. After each snap a person joined in.

“What's going on?” A still drowsy Mark asked. I checked his head, at least he wasn’t bleeding.

“I have no idea…” There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned and an inmate pointed at a table. Me and Mark looked over and saw the shadowed man sitting with his back to us.

“_ Of this place? _ ” Four other inmates turned the table, and the man was looking right at us. The light shone down on the spot light, and I swear it was something out of a musical. “ _ Hurh… _ ” The man huffed. “ _ Why would anyone...Want to break out? _” He hopped off the table and stalked towards us. He was snapping to, adding to the rhythm around us.

“The outside world recoils in fear, thinkin’ if they slip up they’ll get locked up in here.” He sang, snapping his way along the line of also snapping inmates. “Your killin’ yourself, just to make ends meet.” He put his hands behind his head and flexed his arms. “While I’m workin’ on my tan, and kickin’ up my feet.” The air around us suddenly turned from cold and closing, to warm and welcoming.

“You can’t beat livin’ in prison, there’s always somethin’ to do. And you know who is payin’, everyone but you!” Mark had straightened up and was now chuckling. The man, who reminded me of Mark, had on prison stripe pants and a whit t-shirt. He had a tattoo on his neck, arm, and knuckles. He was giving me a 50’s greaser vibe.

“Everyday I’ll wake up, to a nice hot shower.” He sang. “Don’t pay the water bill, so I’m scrubbing for hours.” He did a move to imply he was scrubbing. He danced his way outside, and everyone followed.

“Shoot some hoops, lifting weights in the yard!” An inmate sang, “Maybe blow off some steam, shiv a rookie guard.” He stabbed a guard in the back and ran. Me and Mark watched with undoubted horror.

“And there’s nothing more exquisite, then when I get my 14 minute conjugal vi-iii-sit!” He was dancing and we could hear the jingling. The greaser guy just jumped from behind us and headed inside.

“Cmon, and meet the gang!” He called. He turned to us right as we found a bathroom.

“There’s Jimmy The Pickle,” The inmate was singing again. We looked at the spider-webbed tattoo guy, who was now smiling. “And Shithole Hank.” We looked past Jimmy at Hank. He was using a ladle to spoon some brush liquid into a cup. “He makes the best Hooch wine in his toilet tank.” I could hear the gag that came out of Mark. The guy backflipped and led us to other people down the hall.

“There’s Bam-Bam, and Tiny, and Sparkles McGee!” We got a handshake from everyone. 

“And every single one of us scumbags agree,” Bam-Bam, the inmate, and Tiny all sang together. “I don’t wanna be free!” The inmate walked down a line, and other’s lifted up trays in an oray fashion. They repeated the same line back.

“Leave me in luxury!” They sang back again.

“Why try a prison break, when hard times totally great?” Now he had a circle around him, flapping trays in a ring formation.

“I got a trash pedigree.” He sang. And the inmates sang right back.

“But here I’m bourgeoisie!” He came at us, sitting both me and Mark down in wheel-chairs. We were pushed along the halls as the greaser sang.

“I never think about the world beyond the night recalling I killed my mom…” He sounded a bit sad, but I didn’t comment. “No.”

“I don’t wanna be,

FREE.

Not the life for me,

NO!”

“I don’t wanna be fr-eeeeee.” Now we were all tap-dancing along with him. “Of these amenities!” I laughed as Mark spun around with the music.

“If I tried to live this good out there, I’d have to be. A. Thou-sand-aaaaa-ire!” The man put his cane in the air.

“This is where I wanna grow old! So I’m just prayin’, I don’t make par-oooo-le.”

He grabbed my cane, looked into my eyes and winked. “I don’t wanna be free!” He banged his boot, and suddenly the air was cold and closing again. Mark got closer to me as the man approached.

“So, tell me,” He said in a prison Ohio accent. He scowled a bit, “Do you’se two still wanna be free?” He stopped and stared at us. Mark was shaking beside me.

“N-no, not at all!” I blurted out, not thinking. But I think Mark didn’t care at this point.

“Alr-iii-ght!” The guy said, “Youse a cool one, Mr.s-?”

“Ryan.”

“Ryan…” He repeated, trying the world out on his tongue. “I likes it, it’s very...homey.”

“I feel like I gotta know your name now…” Mark at this point was sweating.

The inmate smirked, that dangerous smirk that you know will get someone hurt.

“The names Yancy. Nice ta meetcha.”

  
  



	3. Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yancy has somethings cool to shows you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic...For some reason is doing better then all my others, so heres two days work of this. Enjoy.

“Ok, recap, we have no plan, no allies, and crap food.” I watched as a slightly frantic Mark paced our cell. I was sitting on my bunk, slightly bored.

“Well, did you see that Yancy guy? God knows what he would have done if we told him we wanted to break out.” I added and Mark shuttered.

“He would probably beat us up…” He whispered, and he stopped his pacing. “He could totally beat us up…” I groaned loudly and rolled onto my back.

“There’s no way out of this Hell!!” I exclaimed softly. I felt Mark sit down next to me. For a few minutes it was all silent. Then, Mark yelled and flung his arms around in a rage.

“ARRRGG!” Mark fell back and laid next to me. He was whining like a baby, a very big baby. “R-Ry-aaaa-n!! I don’t want to be stuck in pri-s-s-ooo-n….!!” He sobbed a little. I waited until he calmed down. When he did, Mark sat up and wiped his eyes. I sat up with him and hugged him around the shoulders. He leaned his head on my shoulder.

“I could’ve been an engineer, Ryan!!” Mark sobs, now just shamelessly clinging to me. He was worked up again, but would soon calm down. He pulled away and sat criss cross across from me. I turned to him and shrugged.

“Ok, ok...So, let’s recap...No plan, but we got your big brain.” I tapped his forehead. He smiled, that soft smile. “No allies...But we got each other.” Mark’s smile widened a bit, and he brightened. “As for the crap food… We’ll see if we can get kitchen duty, that’ll fix that problem.” Mark laughed, and I laughed with him. When we were done, Mark smiled at me.

“Your right. Together we can get out of here.” He held his hand up, and I slapped it with intention. “Ooowww!” Mark whined, and I laughed. Suddenly, something banged on the bars and we both jumped.

“Oy, stop your slumber party!” A guard called, Glaring at me. “Dinner time.” Mark was less enthusiastic, but came with me either way. The cafeteria was buzzing, inmates laughing and an arm wrestle grabbing everyone's attention. It was an inmate I didn’t recognize and Yancy. Inmates were chanting Yancy’s name, and that seemed to fuel him. With a triumphant yell, Yancy slammed the poor inmates hand into the table. The crowd cheered and Yancy stood, flinging his arms into the air and cheering for himself. I could feel the blush creeping up on my cheeks, but I ignored it.

“Hey Ryan, cmon lets sit over there.” I looked at Mark, who was retreating off to the lunch table in the corner. I follow, looking down at my mush the whole time. I sat down next to Mark and nibbled at my mush.

“Holy shit, Mark you have to try this..” I started eating like a wolf, gobbling down the mush in big bites. It tasted like Thanksgiving turkey, and it brought back so many memories. I watched as Mark slowly took a bite of his, and his face lit up. His eyes got that sparkle he had been missing and he chuckled. We both ate our mush, smiling as we finished.

Suddenly, Mark was pushed to the side, and a green haired man took up the spot next to him. The guy was panting and pale, his shoulders shaking.

“Wow, buddy are you-” Mark started but the guy cut him off.

“You’ve gotta help me!” He yelped in an Irish accent. He looked behind him and I saw what he meant. Two other guys, both scary looking, were stalking this way. “I didn’t mean ta disrespect ‘em, I swear it! I was just joking around.” Mark shushed the guy, pushing the green haired man behind him. The two men walked up and we both stood in the man’s defense.

“Hey!” One screeched. He looked like the Irish man, only darker hair and scars on his throat. His dark eyes made it look like his whole iris was pitch black. His whole outfit was pitch black, with the exception of his white shoes. “We’re in the middle of something!”

“Yeah, so step aside boys!” The other growled. His hair covered one eye, and he kept flipping it back. Yet it always found a way to cover his eye. His outfit was effectively cleaned, not a spot on his white shirt. Not a wrinkle on his black pants and not a smudge on his shoes. His eyes seemed to be black with red Irises. He also looked like Mark... He grinded his fist into his palm as he smirked at the Irish man behind us.

“Hey, back off!” WHAM! Mark’s fist collided with the scarred man’s face. People around us gasped, even the perfectly dressed man. The scarred man stood back up and growled, one hand over his eye. I looked at Mark, who was staring at his fist with a look of fear.

“I thought...That would give us some time…” The scarred man growled and went to punch, but a hand came out and stopped it. It was a blur, but suddenly Scars was on the floor and Yancy had his arm pinned on his back.

“Yous was sayin’, An-Tie?” Yancy growled, pushing down and making Anti squeak. The well-dressed man had backed off, choosing to retreat to the corner.

“OY! Let me go ya no good murderer!” Anti growled, kicking up and earning a twist in return. A pop, and suddenly Anti was screaming in pain. Yancy glanced behind us at the Irish man.

“Yous alrigh’ Sean-y-boi?” Mark turned to look at Sean, who was nodding and rubbing his arms. I turned back to Yancy, who was walking in our direction. I looked past him at the whimpering Anti and the well-dressed guy trying to comfort him. Yancy was then standing in front of Mark, glaring.

“Didch yous start dis?” Mark cowered a bit at Yancy’s sharp tone. I quickly intervened.

“Hey, that’s enough buddy. If it weren’t for Mark, Sean would’ve gotten whatever punishment Anti had for him.” I glared, standing defensively between Mark and Yancy. I could practically feel Mark shaking behind me. Yancy’s face scrunched in confusion, before he seems to realize what had happened.

“Oh…” Yancy blinked and backed off, nodding. “Cools, cools…” He blushed slightly and I’ll admit, it was cute. Yancy glanced at me, “Yous have a good day…” And he left.

“Oh, thank you so much...I thought I’d be getting my head dunked in a toilet by now…” I turned to find Sean smiling widely at Mark. Mark was smiling back, and I had been forgotten from the conversation.

I turned back around, and found Yancy walking down a hallway. I don’t know why, but I decided to follow him. I snuck down the dark hallway with the flickering lights, following him as he walked. He turned the corner, and I ran to catch up with him. As I turned, something pushed me against the wall with a growl. Yancy grabbed my wrists and held them above my head so I couldn’t move. His eyes were lit with anger, and I was afraid. He towered over me and glared.

“The hell yous doin’ here, Ryan?” He growled. My eyes grew wide and my breathing deepened.

“I-I-I’m sorry…” I whispered as I flinched. Suddenly, his face softened, and he let me go. I stayed where I was, for the fear of him stopping me again. But he only took a step back and glared.

“Yous shouldn’ts be around heres, tis dangerous…” He rubbed his arm. I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms.

“I deal with Mark everyday, what can possibly be more dangerous than that?” Yancy paled, actually paled.

“W-well yous see, I’d love to tell ya, but I’se just can’t...Yous understand!” He tried to reason with me but I wasn’t buying it.

“Show me.”

With a defeated sigh, Yancy looked around then back at me. In a blink of an eye, he had grabbed my arm and started pulling me down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we turned a corner. He stopped at an old water fountain.

“To wheres we store our’s more precious items…” He banged the fountain and suddenly the perfectly painted white bricks started to open like a door. Yancy simply strolled in and flipped a switch. All around us, christmas light flickered on to reveal bunks among bunks. There were drawings on the wall, and a few desks in the far corner.

“What is this pla-”

“Shhh…” Yancy put his hand to my mouth and I shut up. “Welcome...To Eden…” He directed me over to one of the bunks, where a small boy was sleeping. He had soft brown hair and tan skin. He wore an oversized prison shirt and pants. And he was holding a very small teddy bear.

“What…” Suddenly, Yancy walked back to the middle of the room and yelled loudly. He reminded me of a rooster at this point. A bunch of small heads popped up, ages from 4 to 10. They all giggled and hopped down or climbed down ladders. It was like something out of a Disney movie. The little boy popped up and giggled.

“Yancy, Yancy!!” He hopped up into Yancy’s arms, hugging him around the neck. Yancy laughed, holding the boy against his chest. I was stunned as the blue-eyed boy turned to me. “Who’s your friend, Uncle Yancy?” About 15 other kids were milling around, talking, playing, or rough-housing.

“Well Sammy, this is my friend, Ryan.” Yancy looked at me. “Ryan, this is my nephews, Sammy.” I stared at the little boy in his arms, then at the others laughing around us.

“W-what is all this, Yancy?” Yancy chuckled and let Sammy down. He ran over to his bunk and played with a little girl.  
“Well, on lucky occasions, an inmate is visited by’s a lover. And the warden, bless the man's heart, gives them some…” He looked around then leaned in, “Alone time…” I nodded like I got what that meant. He continued, “And on lucky occasions, these little rascals come along...But they’re father’s never come back…” He sighed, “Sometimes, the mothers’ll dump the baby in the yard at night, left for us to find them… And we couldn’t part with ‘em so...We made Eden.”

He looked around and up, and I admired the handywork. But he sighed and smiled.

“The whole family knows ‘bout this place…See that kid over theres?” I nodded as I noticed the girl in the corner, playing with Sammy and another boy. “Tiny’s kid. Oldest here, she’s 9 ‘nd three quarters.” He pointed at another kid, a big, strong looking boy. “Jimmy’s lad, about 10.”

I glanced at how proud Yancy looked, with his hands on his hips and a bright smile. His greased hair was shining, and it was a good look for him.

“Any of them yours?” I asked, expecting a scoff and a shake of the head. But instead, Yancy just frowned and looked down.

“Nope, not one of ‘em...But heys, theys still family.” He clapped his hands and walked over to one of the tables. “Alrigh’, time to get you little monsta’s some food!” And they all cheered.

And I just stood there, amazed.


End file.
